Judith Light
Information Name: Judith Light Nickname: Jude Age: 26 years old DOB: 28th January 1984 Hair Color: Chocolate brown Eye Color: Ruby red Favorite Color: Pink Favorite Food: Chocolate, fried chicken, fish Hobbies: Reading, writing, drawing and singing Career Dream: Manga-ka (manga artist) Worst Fear: The Dark, due to being locked in a dark closet all night as a prank by her cousins History Jude is considered a Happy-go-lucky, jovial and talkative on the outside, but feels broken, bitter and vulnerable on the inside. She'd often smile to hide the fact that she's crying inside. Born from a human mother and an incubus father in the small town of Burlesque, she always had to live under the shadows of her overbearing mother and constantly be reminded that she was a "special child" and should not be treated any less than others. Because of being a half-breed, she can absorb knowledge better than any regular human's brain capacity can do, so she was educated under a special class and was groomed for college at a very young age. She was especially gifted in linguistics and can master many forms of languages at once faster than an average linguistic student. Unfortunately, because she was given too much high expectations and was being pressurize to excel, she deliberately failed her classes and rather rebel against her mother's wishes than to suffer the life of a prodigy. She met Jay Kellingston at the age of 18 and both ended up madly in love with each other and eloped after 6 months of dating, got married and moved to Jay's hometown in Kite City. They were happily married for 5 years until everything went down under when she had a miscarriage. Due to her depression over it, she misunderstood Jay's visit to his sister's as an affair, and by the time she figured it out, the damage was done as there was a rift in their trust and they were divorced a few months after the fact. A divorcee for 3 years, she is now coping with life without her husband, supporting herself almost lavishly with her job as an international translator. Jude came across the Red Death through a newspaper clipping on the notice board of a police station when her identity was suddenly erased overnight. Before then, she had recieved a letter from him, but disregard shortly after. Because of it, everyone around her acted that they've never seen her before, let alone know her. In a horrific state, her family denied ever having a child. In an act of desperation, she opened the invitation, only to find a picture with her and her ex-husband. The Red Death had already kidnapped him and the pictures of him tied up shows a threat. Ex-husband or not, Jude was determined to save him, even if going through this. Victim in holding: Jay, her ex-husband Dress and Mask Judith's Prologue "WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD! WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD! WAKE UP, SLEE— " WHOOP!! I groaned as I slammed the alarm clock. Curse my ex-husband to get me such a loud, obnoxious clock for my birthday. Now I couldn't wake up without having a heart attack first. As I slowly slipped my legs off the bed to sit up and put my cold feet into my warm furry bed slippers, I stared out into the slowly rising sun at the horizon beyond my window. An empty feeling that I thought was long gone resurfaced as I glanced at the empty space of the other side of my bed, and my heart unconsciously ached at that feeling, making me wish in vain that all this had never happened. It had been almost 3 years to the letter that I had divorced Jay, my ex-husband of 5 years, due to some stupid misunderstanding. I had to admit, we were really young at the time and we seemed to have rushed into the marriage (after dating for only 6 months) as soon as we were fresh out of high school and at an age where we should be considering college first. I had abandoned almost everything: my friends, my family, my hometown of Burlesque, to be with Jay in Kite City, but when I had a miscarriage and, due to my depression over the loss of our child, mistaken Jay's visit to his sister, who came to console him, as an affair, we started drifting apart, losing each other's trust and finally lived separately for a few months before Jay mailed me the divorce papers for me to sign. I sighed as I turned off the snooze button on the alarm clock and made my way to the bathroom to freshen up. Despite the divorce, I still kept a multitude of vanity items that I got from Jay when he was still courting me and I couldn't bear to part from it no matter how painful it reminded me of my mistake to let Jay go yet never tried to earn him back. Though, despite my lack of college education, my talent for linguistics due to the fact that I was a half-breed (incubus on my father's side) with better brain capacity to absorb foreign languages just as easy as one would learn how to drink water secured me a job in Kite City as an international translator, and while back then I used to be the biggest breadwinner between Jay and I and live comfortably, now I, single and alone, was earning more than I needed to. If I were to show you my bank book, you'd be bamboozled with all the zeros laid before you. As I finished freshening up and got dressed, I went to my front door of my $900-a-month condominium to check for any incoming mail, and sure enough, there were a few. Bringing them to the kitchen counter where I poured myself a cup of strong black coffee and reheating some leftover omelets, I sifted through them one by one. "Junk mail…bills…bills…junk mail…subscription fee renewal advice…bills…hey, what's this?" My eyes caught sight at an odd-looking envelope. It was fully red, like the colour of blood, and sealed with golden wax, almost like the ones that were used during the Middle Ages. There was no return address and no indication that my address was written anywhere, and there was no stamp either. It was as if someone wrote a letter to me and mailed it by hand themselves. "Ah well," I shrugged as I opened the envelope. "It's not like my day could get any worse." As I took out a card that was inside the envelope, I saw that the front of the card was a picture of a medieval-looking castle. At closer inspection, I recognized the castle as Prospero Castle, one of the 8th wonders of Kite City, allegedly rumoured to have housed more than 5 generations of the area's most notorious and scandalous royal dynasty of the history. When I opened the card, there it wrote in red ink: Dear Judith Light, You are cordially invited to the most spectacular masquerade party the city has ever seen. Should you decide to accept this invitation, your life, as you know it, will change for the better and you will be rewarded with something you hold dear the most. Venue: Prospero Castle, Frankfurt Avenue Date: All Hallows Eve Time: 7.30pm onwards Attire: Will be provided upon confirmation RSVP: Please confirm your acceptance of invitation by dialing 555-1408 P/S: You may want to think carefully and considerably before you decide to reject this offer. This is your only chance "I…Is this some kind of joke?" I exclaimed in disbelief. I read and reread the invitation card and yet I still couldn't figure head or tail of this. Me? Invited by a stranger to a masquerade party? A change in life and a reward of something I hold most dear? It sounded more like a scam to me. As I was about to reach back to the envelope to see if there was anything else that came with the card, I caught sight of the time, found out that I was almost late for the last subway train to work, swore and hastily made my way out of my condo, leaving the envelope and the card behind on the kitchen counter amongst the pile of junk mail. --:-- I groaned as I finally stepped out of the subway train and into the open. I was glad that my job allowed me freedom to wear whatever I want as long as I does not wear it during public functions for the rich and famous, and I was wearing my usual baggy clothes to work, or I would've probably suffocated to death by the clothes alone that everyone seemed to have an affinity of wearing despite its lack of room to breathe. If only Jay were to understand that my lack of fashion sense was the one thing that probably saved my life so many times during rush hour. I readjusted the strap of my sports bra I wore underneath that long, baggy T-shirt dress and made my way towards my workplace, my left pants leg folded up an inch higher than my right and my Japanese wooden sandals—Jay called it clogs, more like it—echoed down the steadily busy streets of Kite City. I couldn't care less if people were staring at me weirdly; I just wanted to continue on my way and be within the walls of my office listening and/or read into whatever my superiors had to throw at me to translate and get on with my day so that it would end quickly for me to return to the sanctuary of my home and carry on what I did best: drawing comics. As I took out my pass card and made my way towards the building where I worked, I recalled the last time I tried to convince my mother to allow me to pursue my true dream career as a manga-ka. I always had a passion for comic books and manga and hoped that one day I could be just like those wonderful artists, sharing their dreams and imaginations for the world to enjoy, rather than sit there and tell people what other people were talking about. That discussion led into a huge argument about a total waste of talent and potential and total destruction of my manga story by my mother that I spent almost a month completing and had planned to be sent to publishers. At least Jay allowed me to do what I want to do, I thought, barely realizing that I had tend to associate everything that I could think of to my ex-husband. I berated myself for not getting over it even though it had been 3 years after the fact, as I swiped my pass card at gate entrance, but I knew, deep down inside, it was easier said than done. ACCESS DENIED "What?" I raised a brow and swiped my pass card again. The reaction was the same for the next 2 times I tried it, and at the 3rd time, the security breach alarm went off, prompting the security guards to the door to investigate. "What seems to be the problem here?" a chubby African-American man clad in the company's security uniform came out along with another tall, lanky partner. I recognized them as Al and Sticks, some of the closest friends I had made in Kite City. "Oh, Al! Sticks! Thank goodness you're here," I sighed in relief. "Did you guys changed pass cards or pass codes or something because, seriously, you really need to update your memo system…" "Ma'am, where did you get this card from?" Al asked sternly. "This is exclusively for employees only. And how do you know my nickname?" "Al, it's me, Jude! You know me, I always get you decaf and jelly donuts every chance I get. Come on, it's not April's Fool Day, stop playing!" "Ma'am, I don't know what you're talking about. I have diabetes and can't touch anything sweet without insulin, let alone have coffee and jelly donuts. Now hand over the card before I take you to the authorities for theft and trespassing." "Sticks!" I turned desperately towards Sticks who looked at me just as sternly as Al did. "You know me too! I gave you that necklace for your birthday last week! Don't tell me you don't remember that!" "Lady, I dunno watcha playin' at," Sticks replied in his thick Southern accent. "But the missus is the one who gave me this necklace, and you sure ain't lookin' like my missus to me." I looked at each of them in disbelief. They seemed to know what they were talking about, but it seemed so impossible and unreal. Just the evening before I got off work, I had a hearty conversation with the two of them gossiping and joking about a recording I had to translate of a so-called Ukrainian underground mob, to only find that it was just some poor Russian sap being caught by his wife for having sex with her sister, and now they were looking at me as if they had never ever seen me before in their lives. My fight or flight instincts soon kicked in as I pushed past the two guards to run up to my office. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it's some sort of joke. Maybe it was some sort of sick sense of humour from the upper management to make subordinates like Al and Sticks not acknowledge me presence. I had to make sure that I didn't just step into the Twilight Zone. Ignoring the shouts of the guards that were chasing after me, I quickly dashed up the stairs (since my pass card couldn't work and the elevator required pass card access) to my floor where my office was. The moment I pushed the door open, all eyes were on me. Everything in the office was just as I had left it last night, but something about it was different in a sense, like I both recognized and not recognized it at the same time. My seat was replaced with a Caucasian man who was a half-breed like me as well, but one look at the wings he sported and I knew he was descended from a different breed of nether beings. But the most disturbing part was that my fellow colleagues who shared the same office with me were all giving me the same look that Al and Sticks gave me. Needless to say, once the security guards were able to catch up with me, I was dragged kicking and screaming out of the building, stripped of my pass card and clearance badge and escorted unwillingly into the company security car to the nearest police station. After almost 3 hours of interrogation, with me repeating over and over again my identity and my position in my company, and almost half a day in a holding cell, the police decided to let me off—since they couldn't find any proof of foul play on my part as to how I acquired a high security pass card that was employee-exclusive only—provided that I did not leave town. As I left the station, I caught a glimpse of a newspaper clipping on the notice board. There was no picture to illustrate the article, but the headline was big enough to catch anyone's attention: THE RED DEATH'S BLOOD TRAIL CONTINUES I would've gone over to read it in more detail if I didn't realize that I was being watched. The piercing gaze of some of the detectives who were interrogating me was like daggers on my back, making me feel like a criminal already. Guess I was still under suspicion even though my situation proved otherwise. Giving the detectives one last challenging glare, I made my way out of the police station. --:-- I was wrong when I stated this morning that my day couldn't get any worse, because it did. Just like the incident at my workplace, it was happening again at my own condo as the locks were changed and the landlord did not recognize me and denied ever letting me stay in his condo. Someone else—a family of four—occupied my home, and everything that I owned in that home was gone, except for my alarm clock that I got for my birthday from Jay and the invitation card that was left carelessly outside the door. And when I tried to prove my residency by showing him the clock and the card together with the condo keys, the landlord went into a fit of denial and threatened to call the police if I did not leave. Not wanting to make another trip to the station and risk meeting those detectives again, I reluctantly left the condo with only the clothes on my back and whatever I had brought along for work in the morning, in addition to the clock and the invitation card. After walking aimlessly for miles, I found myself in Kite City Memorial Park, my footsteps echoing down the long walkway with only the park lights to illuminate my way. Finding the nearest seat, I rested on it and mulled over what had just happened. Why didn't my pass card work? Why didn't anyone recognize me? Why was I suddenly replaced from my job and my home? How was it that I could be Judith Light the International Translator to Jude the Nobody overnight? Who was doing this? How did they do it? And why? Giving my luck one more shot to assure myself that I had not gone insane, I took out my cell phone and dialed home, back in Burlesque. It had been so many years since I called home ever since I eloped with Jay, but knowing my mom, she would jump to the chance to scream her head off at what an ingrate I was for running away and ruining her dreams of seeing her little girl being the trophy daughter she always wanted me to be. For a moment, I actually would welcome that if only to know that I still exist. "Hello?" a brisk, no-nonsense yet familiar voice came through after 2 rings. "Um…Hello? Is this…Mrs. Light?" I asked tentatively, testing the waters. "Yes, this is Mrs. Light speaking. Who is this?" "H…Hey, Mom. Um…it's me, Jude. You remember me, right?" I braced myself for a yelling, but nothing prepared me for this reaction: "I think you have the wrong number. I don't have a child." "Hey, Mom, you're kidding, right? You're just saying that to spite me, right? I know it's been years and what I did was wrong but…" "I said you have the wrong number. I've been infertile for as long as I can remember, let alone have a daughter to be done wrong to. Is this some kind of sick joke? Who is this? Hello? Hello?" I hung up helplessly, not wanting to explain myself anymore. If even my own mother did not recognize me, who else would now? In a fit of rage and despair, I flung my phone against a nearby tree and shot up, shouting at the top of my lungs at thin air, "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! WHO THE HELL IS DOING THIS?! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!" I was about to grab something else to throw and vent when I caught sight of the invitation card. As my half-breed brain worked out the kinks, I soon realized that it was the moment I received this invitation that my day went downhill. As crazy as it may sound, it had to be the only explanation when nothing else made logical sense. It had to be! Desperate for a lead, I snatched the invitation card and studied it again. I read and reread the message on the card from cover to cover until those specific words started to sound like a mantra in my head: …you will be rewarded with something you hold dear the most… Reaching over for the envelope, I tore it open as I should have done this morning and sure enough, something fell out of that envelope. As I picked it up, I was shocked to see that it was the 4-photo strip that Jay and I took at the Kite City carnival's photo booth on the 1st year of our marriage. I remembered it was near autumn when the annual carnival began, and the first thing Jay and I did was rush to the photo booth to take pictures of ourselves. The first three were just silly faces we put up, but the last one was of us kissing. I flipped to the back of the photo strip to confirm my suspicions and sure enough, there was the little doodle Jay and I did and the handwritten date of the photo taken in Jay's handwriting. There was no doubt about it as the answer and those specific words were laid out in front of me. Whoever sent me the invitation card and the photo strip had Jay. A feeling of warmth washed slightly through my heart at the thought of Jay keeping this photo when I did not, but a sense of dread overpowered that feeling as I wondered why Jay became collateral damage to a vendetta that was targeted to me. Millions of questions ran through my mind as to who, what, why, where, when and how did all this happen, but I knew it was not going to be answered by just standing there staring at nothingness. If I were to get my answers, I would have to accept the invitation. I cursed as I remembered I smashed my cell phone against the tree and quickly exited the park to find the nearest pay phone. Finding one, I quickly dialed the number that was on the card and waited. At the 3rd ring, a woman's voice that you often hear on an answering machine greeted me: "Thank you for accepting the invitation to the masquerade party at Prospero Castle. Please specify your residency to receive your event attire and everything else will be arranged." I had wanted to say my condo's address but, remembering that I no longer live there, my mind immediately thought of the next best option, which was the Apollo Hotel where Jay and I stayed for our 2nd anniversary. The moment I said the address, the voice in the phone ended the conversation with just a "Thank you" and I was soon left to my own devices. Double-checking to see if I had enough cash at hand, since using my credit card would probably not work thanks to today's events, I took a cab and made my way towards Apollo Hotel. --:-- My musings were broken with the sound of knocking on the door. It had been almost two days since I checked into Apollo Hotel and All Hallow's Eve was almost approaching. I was almost getting cabin fever waiting for any news from whoever sent me the invitation and I literally made a sprint for it when the knock came. Seeing no one through the peephole, I opened the door cautiously to find a black box tied in blood red ribbon at my feet. Picking it up, I looked around again to see who left it behind in vain before bringing it into my room. Almost immediately, I tore off the ribbon and opened the box to see a shocking sight before me. Inside the box was a pink ballroom dress with a slight dark hue and embroidered with tiny pearls and sequins in random pattern, with gloves, shoes and accessories to match. There was something very medieval about the dress, almost like something out of a Shakespearean era where Romeo and Juliet still existed and A Midsummer's Night Dream was not much of a dream at all, and judging by the quality of the dress, it did not come cheap. Along with the dress and accessories was the crème of the crop: a pinkish-white mask that could literally cover half of my face with elegantly carved holes for the eyes, and like the dress, it was decorated with tiny pearls and sequins with a creamy-coloured bunch of feathers on either side of the mask. But that was not the shocking part. It was a picture of Jay taped to the bottom of the box cover that really got me riled up. He was stripped down to his briefs and blindfolded and gagged while his hands and arms were raised and tied above his head. There were long and thin scorch marks on every part of his body and some of them were fresh and bleeding. I would've thought him dead if not for the fact that his legs were still standing firmly on the floor, albeit weakly. My heart burnt with fury and agony at the sight of this. Why him? Why, of all people, him? What did they want from him? What did they want from me? What was the point of all this? Those were questions I would demand from the culprit first chance I get. As I flipped to the back of the picture, a small note was found written in red, saying: Your reward will soon be at hand, if you were to follow the rules. Put on the dress and wait for further instructions As much as I didn't want to, I had no choice. Jay's life was at stake, ex-husband or not. I couldn't deny that I still loved him with all my heart, and I would do anything to save him from this predicament. The moment I finished dressing up in the outfit I was given and fitted the mask, the hotel phone rang. As I picked it up, the same voice I heard the first time through the pay phone came in. "Thank you for accepting your attire. Please proceed outside your residence and your mode of transport will be with you shortly." I was tempted to yell at the phone to demand she has proof of life from Jay, but the phone was already hung up by the time I actually thought of saying it. Grumbling curses at it, I slammed the phone down and made my way out of the hotel, ignoring stares, teases and wolf-whistles by those I walked past. I wondered, at the back of my mind, what would Jay think if he saw the ex-wife he knew who had totally next to no fashion sense all dolled and dressed up like that right now. Sure enough, the moment I was at the entrance of the hotel, a black limo was parked right outside waiting for me. No one came out to open the door for me, so I had to go in myself. A tinted glass window separated me and the driver and the moment I got in and closed the door, the limo started up and made its way to their destination. As I sat there, letting the vehicle take me to wherever I needed to be, I stared at both the photo strip and the photo I got of the tortured Jay and whispered quietly to it, caressing it tenderly. "Hang in there, Jay. I'm coming for you."